


Food For Thought

by Andromedas_Void



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Medical Trauma, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Promnis Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromedas_Void/pseuds/Andromedas_Void
Summary: Short Promnis Week fics.





	1. Day 1: First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what that title is ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Are... are you sure I'm even _allowed_ in your apartment?” Prompto asked, biting his lip. “Like, don't I need some kind of, I don't know, security clearance or somethin'?” He wrung his hands together, eyes taking in the sight of the massive apartment complex, all shining and brand new; imposing floor to ceiling windows winked down at him the the late afternoon sunlight, and the doorman - there was an actual, godsdamn _doorman_ \- gave Noctis a polite nod, holding the door open for the two teens.

Prompto hiked his shoulders up higher around his ears, wondering if a member of the infamous Kingsglaive was going to grab him and toss him bodily from the building. Maybe the doorman was a Glaive in disguise?

“Prom, don't worry,” Noctis said, chuckling softly. “You're with me and I doubt anyone's gonna think you're holdin' me hostage. Not with those skinny arms,” he teased, pinching Prompto on the bicep.

“Hey!” He swatted Noct's hand away, pouting dramatically. “Just because you have a personal trainer or some shit, doesn't mean everyone does.”

“Whatever.” Noctis rolled his eyes, pressing the elevator call button. It dinged almost instantly, the doors sliding open. Dragging the blond into the elevator, he pressed his floor button and draped an arm around his shoulder. “Look, Iggy already approved of you staying the weekend so a Glaive isn't gonna come bustin' down my door at three in the morning or anything. Relax.”

Prompto let out a breath and dropped his head back, rolling it over Noct's arm. “Alright, but if the Glaive do come, I'm blamin' you.”

“Deal.”

The elevator dinged again and the door slid open, revealing a pristine hallway. Noctis' arm fell from around Prompto's shoulders as he exited and led the way to the door at the end of the hall. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he grinned, waving an arm through the air at the door.

Prompto snorted at the action, crossing his arms, nervousness still pricking at the back of his mind. “In what world is a penthouse 'humble'?”

“When you're used to living at the Citadel, everything is humble,” Noctis replied, unlocking the door.

“I guess you have a point.” He stepped over the threshold, toed off his shoes, and stepped into a waiting pair of slippers, deep grey in color and possibly the softest slippers he had ever worn. “So, are we gonna order takeout for dinner?” he asked, following after Noctis and down the hallway. “I know a great place that makes some amazin' Altissian street food.”

“I do apologise,” a voice called out the second Prompto turned around the corner into the living room, causing him to jump. “I had intended to prepare your meals for the weekend. Although, I am sure I have the ingredients for a majority of Altissian meals, including their street foods.”

When Prompto caught his breath, he looked up to the owner of the voice and immediately froze.

The man was still young but he carried himself like a fully functioning adult, someone who knew what they were doing with their life. Soft brown hair fell across his forehead, just barely brushing against the rim of his glasses, and the only way Prompto could describe his face was something along the lines of 'carved by the Astrals themselves'. In short, he was breathtaking.

“Hey, Iggy,” Noctis said, inclining his head as he dropped his school bag onto the couch. “This is Prompto.”

Prompto flinched when he was introduced. _This_ was Iggy? Noctis' caretaker? Ignis? He had pictured someone in their thirties, minimum, not a teenager. Or, was he even a teen? Maybe he just had a young face and was secretly much older.

An elbow to his ribs knocked him out of his thoughts. “Oh, uh... hi?”

“A pleasure to finally meet you.” Ignis smiled and Prompto felt himself melt into a puddle under its warmth.


	2. Day 2: Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto has got it bad for Ignis.

“Prom, I swear to the Astrals,” Noct warned, pointing an accusing finger at the blond.

“I didn't say anything,” Prompto said defensively, voice pitched and shoulders hitched up.

Noctis rubbed his hand over his face, groaning loudly. Down the hall, he could make out the soft metallic sounds of Ignis preparing lunch for the three of them. “Dude, just tell him. What's the worst that can happen?”

“He's an adult, he could get arrested,” Prompto pointed out. “Or I could get arrested for, I don't know, propositioning a member of the royal court or something.”

There was a snort from Noctis who shook his head. “You're almost eighteen.”

“Not for another month.”

“If you don't tell him, I will.”

“Tell whom?” Ignis asked, hand on the doorknob as he peered into the bedroom.

“No one!” Prompto squeaked, sitting up straight and ridgid, eyes wide.

Ignis narrowed his eyes for the briefest of seconds before shrugging. “Very well. Lunch is ready.”

Noctis barely waited until the older man had stepped away from the door before he burst out laughing, earning a hard smack with a pillow from a red faced Prompto.

“Shut up!” Prompto hissed.

“I'd honestly be shocked if he didn't already know,” Noctis snickered, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “You're, like, the least subtle person I know when it comes to crushes.”

“Dude!”


	3. Day 3: Recurring Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis comforts Prompto from one of his constant nightmares.

_The ice cold press of metal at his back, digging hard into his spine. Razor sharp restraints around his bare wrists, cutting into the skin with even the smallest of movements. Fingers grasping his hair, pulling hard and shoving. Blinding pain that left him dizzy with pain from his head colliding with the metal of the cross he was strapped to._

_A menacing face, eyes black and gold. Deep, dark ichor running down the man's face as he leered. Cold hands giving him false comfort before lashing out at him once again._

_Ignis on his back, skin crackled and grey, angry red veins glowing through the faded colors. His eyes were hazy, pupils glossed over, scars running over his face._

_Noctis willingly stepping into the Crystal, vanishing in a light so bright he had to shield his eyes from it._

_The blade of a Yojimbo slicing through his vest, leaving a sharp pain in his back, hot blood seeping through the fabric._

_Iris knocked unconscious by a Ganymede, it's heavy, blunt sword already in a downward arc. He knew he couldn't make it to her in time, couldn't load his gun fast enough. He was thankful for Gladio accompanying the two on the mission._

_Noctis on the throne, his father's sword pinning him in place. Skin pale as paper, blood staining his once crisp suit, hands resting limply at his sides._

A gentle hand on his cheek had him shuddering, backing away as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. 

A softly lit room, warm plush bed, cloud-like pillows behind him. Ignis watched him silently, hands in his lap as he waited.

“Another nightmare?” the older man asked, keeping his voice low.

Prompto blinked quickly, taking a few shallow breaths before nodding.

“The same as usual?”

Another nod.

Ignis shifted closer on the bed. He was only half dressed for the day, boots by the door and jacket still on its hanger. He drew Prompto into a comforting hug, hand rubbing over his back and shoulders, the other in the blond's hair, scratching lightly. “You know we're all here for you,” he said. 

It was the same routine, the same soft spoken words, that had Prompto relaxing fully in his hold. He slipped his arms around Ignis' back, clinging to his shirt. “It still feels so real,” he muttered, face smushed into Ignis' chest. “Like it's still happening.”

He felt Ignis nod. He spoke after a beat, voice still so soft. “What would you like to do today?”

Prompto thought for a moment. A warm bubble bath sounded nice, something to wash away the feelings still lingering on his skin. It was what he typically chose. That day, though, a new idea popped into his head. “Can I help you with breakfast?”

Ignis let of a soft chuckle as Prompto pulled back. “Of course. We should hurry though. Don't want Noctis to whine about his breakfast being late.”

“He won't even be awake,” Prompto stated, laughing.

“There's a first time for everything.”


	4. Day 4: Cooking with Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto wants to impress Ignis by baking him his favorite cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Try your hand at baking the [Orange Chiffon Cake.](http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/orange-chiffon-cake)

“When baking, you must remember to preheat the oven before you start to combine the ingredients,” Ignis instructed from his spot, perched at the island, steaming mug of coffee in hand.

“Preheat. Okay,” Prompto hummed, reading the fine print of the recipe. He scanned down to the directions until he found the temperature at the top, having missed it on his first go. “Got it.”

Turning to the oven, he set the dial and pressed a button. A soft beep told him it was on.

“All of the ingredients are already on the counter,” Ignis said, taking a sip from his mug. “Let's start by preparing the oranges.”

Prompto nodded and picked up one of the large oranges and re-read the recipe. “Zest and juice. Zest?”

“You'll use the zester for that step.” When Prompto only blinked at him, Ignis smiled and pointed to the item.

“Isn't this a cheese grater?” Prompto asked as he grabbed the zester, turning it in his hands. 

“It could be used as one for hard cheeses, yes, although I much prefer to have separate graters,” Ignis told him. “Now, use an even pressure and try to refrain from zesting the pith, the white part under the skin.”

Zesting the oranges was an easy task, even if Prompto did accidentally get some white bits in the mix.

If Ignis saw, he didn't remark on it. 

Prompto pulled the manual juicer closer and, after slicing the oranges in half, proceeded to smush the fruit into it. Ignis had him use a small sieve to remove the pulp and seeds before separating the juice into two bowls, one more filled than the other. He set the small bowls aside.

Ignis watched him silently as Prompto started to measure out the dry ingredients, head tilted in amusement when the blond carefully leveled off the flour in the cup. 

He could tell Prompto wanted to impress him, knew it from the second he asked what Ignis' favorite dessert was. The eager look on his face had Ignis instantly pulling out his well loved recipe cards, searching for just the right one. The orange chiffon cake his father used to make when he was still a child, before moving to Insomnia, was perfect.

–

Folding in the egg whites proved to be Prompto's downfall, even after Ignis demonstrated the correct method, told him to be gentle, don't stir. “You need to keep the air in the whites so as the cake will be light and fluffy once baked,” he said.

Prompto frowned down at the orange batter, poking lightly at the remaining fluffs of egg white that refused to be mixed. There was another frown, deeper, at the silicon spatula. He mentally cursed it for sabotaging his attempt at making a simple cake. If he could use the whisk again, he'd have no problem getting the whites to fully combine but Ignis had said a whisk would result in a dense cake and 'a chiffon cake is anything but dense'.

Once he deemed the whites as combined as possible – he may have poked the few spots he could see under the top layer of batter – he carefully scraped the contents into the bundt tin, using the spatula to even out the top. It went into the oven just as Ignis set a timer.

“Now, what shall we do while the cake is in the oven?” Ignis mused as he sidled up behind the blond, hands resting on Prompto's hips. He pressed a kiss to Prompto's cheek, filling his head with all kinds of ideas. “Ah, I know! I just picked up the newest movie in the Chocobo Tales series.” He slipped away from Prompto, leaving his back cold. “Shall we put it on?” he asked expectantly.

Not what Prompto had in mind but he smiled brightly all the same. “I didn't even know it was out yet. Heck yeah!”

Ignis chuckled softly at his excitement and moved to the living room to set up the movie.

–

In the end, the cake stuck to the pan, didn't rise as much as either would have hoped, and the glaze only emphasized the uneven texture, but they enjoyed experience regardless. Prompto even promised he'd practise the recipe so he could make the perfect cake one day.


	5. Day 5: Frog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto becomes the unwilling victim of his least favorite status ailment.

Prompto whined, the noise echoing slightly in the cave as he peeked out from his hiding spot next to Gladio. Noctis and Ignis were just across the way, the shadow of a large boulder hiding them from the daemon's view as they came up with a strategy. “Why did it have to be a snake?”

“Would you have prefered a spider?” Gladio asked.

A visible shudder ran down the blond's spine at the thought of a gigantic human faced spider. “Fuck no! That'd be just as bad if not worse!” he whispered loudly.

“Then stop bitchin',” Gladio shot back. “Iggy, got a plan yet?”

Ignis glanced over at the two, shaking his head lightly. “Still working on-Noct!”

A blue shimmer was all that was left of the prince as he warped his way to the Naga.

Prompto could barely remember much of the next few minutes other than Gladio cursing loudly and chasing after Noctis, Ignis on his heels. He remembered summoning his gun and rushing over, popping off a handful of shots before the Naga reared its head back and vomitted up an unpleasant smelling cloud of green gas with a shake of her tail.

After that, the ground was a hell of a lot closer than it should have been. His head throbbed and his vision was off, the colors dirty and muted.

Noctis was knocked back, skidding across the ground and almost on top of Prompto. He warped just before hitting the blond, back to the Naga.

Prompto tried to resummon his gun but the magic refused to flow through his body. He cried out, hearing a scratchy croak in place of his voice. A quick glance down showed him bright yellow, webbed feet instead of his own leather boots.

_Great. Just great,_ he groaned internally. _I'm a frog._

The Naga shrieked, an ear piercing noise that Prompto felt in his core, and he hopped away as fast as he could, back towards the safety of the boulders the four of them had hidden behind. Hands scooped him up before he could get more than a few feet, carefuly cradling him as he struggled in the grip.

“Where's Prom?” Noctis asked as he panted.

The person holding the blond turned to the voice and Prompto saw Noctis leaning over, hands on his knees as a black pool of sludge quickly dissolved behind him.

Gladio stepped closer, sword vanishing to the ether as he bent down, smirking at Prompto. “Y'know, Prom makes the cutest frog, even if he is as yellow as a chocobos ass,” he grinned, poking the frog in the forehead.

Prompto tried to bite him, missing spectacularly.

“Do we have a spare Maiden's Kiss?” Ignis asked from above him.

Noctis nodded as he walked over, breath finally caught. A quick reach into the ether had him pulling out the small red bottle. He crushed it in his hand, letting the magic wash over Prompto.

Prompto let out a yelp when he rapidly changed back, Ignis' hands under his arms to prevent him from dropping straight down to the ground. As it was, he was barely being held up, feet stretched out in front of him. “Don't we have something to prevent toad yet?” he whined, kicking his feet underneath himself and standing up. Ignis kept a hand on his back, steadying him. “I hate getting turned into a frog.”

“Only thing I know of is ribbons and I'm not even sure they're real,” Noctis shrugged. “No one's seen one in centuries.”

“Well, if we ever find one,” Prompto said, brushing the dirt from his pants, “I call dibs.”

“Sure thing, Prom,” Noctis smiled as Ignis planted a soft kiss to the blond's temple. “In the mean time, we'll keep a stash of Maiden's Kisses just for you. Unless Iggy wants to be your maiden.”

“I don't think Iggy's the maiden type,” Gladio commented, snickering at the faux scathing look Ignis sent his way.


	6. Day 6: Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball in King Noctis' honor means only one thing to Prompto: a chance to dance. Too bad he's stuck on guard duty.

The ballroom was meticulously decorated, elegant and bright, chandeliers bringing a soft glow to the room. Members of both the nobility – what was left of them after the fall of Insomnia all those years ago – and the common folk glided across the light polished wood floor, dancing, chatting, drinking bubbly champagne, laughing. The sight made Prompto's heart swell. It had been so long since the people of Eos had a reason to be happy.

Four years to the day had passed since Noctis defeated The Accursed, Ardyn, and ridded the world of the Starscourge, bringing light and hope back to its people. Four years since he ascended to the throne and only a mere three months since Insomnia had been back on its feet, flourishing and lively; buildings repaired and power restored.

Even Prompto himself had changed in those years. His hair had grown out and was pinned back in a small half ponytail, similar to the way Gladio wore his hair as of late, when it wasn't up in a loose bun. He had lost the facial hair, deeming it too much upkeep - an opinion that had Gladio laughing.

Ignis had been the one to suggest a ball, to have it as an 'open house' of sorts. It had been a hit. The citizens were excited about the chance to meet the king who gave them their life back. Word spread like wildfire.

Prompto caught sight of Lunafreya twirling on the floor among the rest of the dancers, white and sylleblossom blue dress flowing like water around her legs as a dark haired man, one who Prompto was certain used to be a member of King Regis' Kingsglaive, held her hand, both smiling brightly.

It had the blond fidgeting in his place beside the empty throne. 

Noctis had wandered into the crowd, Gladio by his side, chatting and shaking hands with anyone who asked. He'd be exhausted before the night was over but the king's smile was genuine.

A hand tapped Prompto on the shoulder and he straightened up, shoulders back.

“May I have this dance?”

He turned his head and there was Ignis, hand held out, palm up, and waiting for an answer. “I... I thought we had to stand guard tonight?”

“Noct is well guarded with Gladio tailing him,” Ignis pointed out. “I do not believe he will be too put out if we have one dance.”

Letting a wide smile grace his face, Prompto took the older man's hand and was led down the short staircase to the dance floor. He was immediately pulled in close, one hand on Ignis' shoulder and the other gripped loosely in Ignis' hand. Ignis' free hand settled high on his waist.

The song was slow, lilting notes adding to the atmosphere of the room.

Prompto followed Ignis' lead, circling around the room with the other dancers, everyone doing their own thing, smiles plastered on their faces. Across the room, he spotted Noctis being lead by Iris in a waltz while Gladio chuckled from the sideline, head shaking lightly. The younger girl had grown steadily over the years and towered over both Noctis and Prompto at an impressive six foot one. With the right set of heels, she was on par with Gladio himself.

Ignis twirled him and Prompto nearly stumbled on the way back, stepping on Ignis' boot. “S-sorry!”

Ignis waved away the apology. “Hardly felt a thing,” he said airly. “Not like when Gladio or Noct stepped on my toes when they were learning in their youths.”

“Were they really that bad? I mean, Noct I can picture, but Gladio?”

“Oh, they were frightfully bad,” Ignis laughed, eyes crinkling just at the corners. “If I recall correctly, Gladio's instructor refused to teach him for two weeks due to 'injuries sustained'.”

“She was exaggerating,” Gladio exclaimed, having slipped closer to the two dancers, Noctis in tow.

“She had a broken toe,” Noctis stage whispered, leaning in close to Prompto's ear. “Iggy had to teach us for the time she was off.”

Prompto grinned as Gladio shoved at the king's back in mock annoyance before he, too, started chuckling at the memory. The sound only intensified the warm, happy feeling flowing through the blond's body.


	7. Day 7: Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Prom?” Ignis called out and the blond hummed in reply. “Did you try to make gold again?”
> 
> Prompto froze in his spot, fingers tightening around the sweater in hand, half folded. “... No?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little taste of Witchy!Prompto!

Prompto could hear the soft sound of humming coming from his boyfriend in the other room as he worked on getting the worst of the stains out of the heavy cast iron of the stove. He knew Ignis would be bobbing his head lightly, swishing his lips as he scrubbed. He still didn't understand how cleaning could even be considered therapeutic.

He considered it a pain in the ass, not to mention back and shoulders and arms and everywhere in between.

He shook his head and focused back on his task of folding laundry.

“Prom?” Ignis called out and the blond hummed in reply. “Did you try to make gold again?”

Prompto froze in his spot, fingers tightening around the sweater in hand, half folded. “... No?”

“Prompto.”

He cringed. He knew Ignis' scolding 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' voice anywhere. He usually heard it when the older witch caught him in a lie, like right now.

Prompto carefully placed the sweater on the pile of clothes and moved to the doorway, eyes on the floor. When he glanced up, he saw a potion book in Ignis' hand as the man frowned at it. “I'm sorry. I just wanted to see if I could do it,” he admitted. “I wasn't gonna, like, make a lot or anything. I've been gettin' better at potions and I just wanted to, I don't know, see if I could do it.”

Ignis let out a small sigh, shaking his head, He dropped the book down to the counter and turned. “Prompto, I've told you before. Making gold is illegal. Futhermore, it's physically impossible even for an advanced witch, like myself, to make the proper potion, if one even exists.”

That had Prompto pause, mouth opening to apologise again before it snapped shut. “How... how do you know?”

Ignis turned his eyes away, back to the stove. 

“Iggy?”

“I suggest you rid yourself of this book lest the wrong people find out you have a copy,” Ignis said, wiping down the counter beside the aforementioned book.

Prompto nodded slowly, frowning. “Iggy, did you try to make gold before?” he asked after a moment, still standing in the doorway.

The look Ignis gave him was nearly undecipherable, the smallest upturn of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes.

“Oh my gods, Iggy! You did!”

“I was young and curious once, too,” Ignis said, striding over to the blond. “I had researched it far more than you have, found the perfect recipe – an old one from bygone times – and nearly burnt down my parents house in the process.”

Prompto felt a bubble of laughter escape his chest, followed closely by another until he was grinning wide, giggling as Ignis stood over him, arms crossed and unamused.

“Judging by the state of your stove, it appears to me that you, as well, nearly burnt down your home,” Ignis pointed out while Prompto tried to stifle his laughs, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he snickered. “The cauldron caught fire. Scared the daylights outta me.”

“I can imagine,” Ignis mused.


End file.
